The Adventure at Baskerville Hall & Other Cases

to me, as he had taken over the task of undressing himself and soon stood before me completely naked.
    "I wish for you to bugger me," he declared bluntly, a wild light in his eyes. "It is something I have wanted for a very long time and, not being a selfish sort of fellow, I daresay that you also will derive some enjoyment from the act."
    "Good God," I breathed, drawing him to me for a gentle kiss and allowing my hands to roam over his flawless form. I had seen him undressed before now, but this was the first occasion where I did not have to deliberately turn my gaze away for fear he would see the latent desire behind my regard. It was also the first occasion where I was permitted not just to look, but to actually touch all that smooth, pale skin and I clasped him to me greedily, trying to caress every part of him simultaneously.
    All too soon he broke away.
    "Is that a yes?" he demanded.
    I cupped his buttocks in my hands, enjoying his inability to prevent his slight shiver and the way his eyelids fluttered.
    "It is a whole-hearted and unreserved yes, a thousand times yes," I vowed. "But, dearest, I am afraid that you will need to give me a few minutes. Despite my earlier haste, I am not actually an adolescent."
    The endearment had brought a small smile to one corner of his mouth that I found quite ridiculously enchanting.
    "As long as you wish," he said fervently, before efficiently stripping me of the rest of my clothes and pulling me down onto his bed.
    A long interval followed, of sensual, drugging kisses, a slow exploration of each others' bodies, and discoveries. I found that Holmes's hair was as soft as I had always hoped it would be, and that if disarranged while damp it had a tendency to curl slightly at the ends. I found that he did not like his ears being touched overmuch, but that he had extraordinarily sensitive nipples for a man. It had never been an area of particular interest for me, but when I gently applied suction to the small points of flesh he arched his back and clutched my head to his breast in a most gratifying fashion.
    Eventually he pushed me off him with an exclamation of impatience, produced a pot of Vaseline from his bedside table and lay back down on his front, his head pillowed on his folded arms. The erotic picture he made caused me to swallow hard, and I reached out and ran a hand down his perfect spine, brushing my fingers lightly over the curve of his backside. Gratified by another involuntary shiver, I let my thumbs dip into the crease between his buttocks and could not hide a smile as he thrust the small pot at me insistently. Taking it, I let him listen to me opening it but then a thought struck me and I set it back down. When I pressed a kiss to the small of his back, he went very still. Knowing my friend's scrupulous habits as I did, I nonetheless enquired, "Am I correct in thinking that you bathed before breakfast this morning?"
    I sounded as neutral as though I were querying whether he would prefer whiskey or brandy after supper, and his shoulders twitched in response.
    "Of course," he murmured, sounding rather strangled. Without further hesitation, I bent my head to place another kiss at the base of his spine, and then allowed my tongue to trace the same path that my thumbs had just taken. I paused, waiting briefly to gauge his reaction, and when he mutely widened his legs I took it as my unspoken permission to continue. The particular type of caresses I bestowed were not something I had done very often before – perhaps only two or three times in my whole life – but I was gratified to see, when I glanced up the rigid lines of Holmes's back, that his fingers were fisted in the sheets and his face buried in the pillow. When I added wet fingers as well, the reaction was immediate. His hand found my forehead and pushed me away from him almost violently as he scrambled to his hands and knees.
    "If you are waiting for me to beg," he said roughly, "I am afraid you will be disappointed."
    I stroked the outside of his thigh soothingly.
    "Turn over," I requested. He shifted his weight a little.
    " Now ," he insisted.
    "Sherlock," I repeated quietly. I had never called him by his Christian name before, and he almost startled. "I hope to do this a great many times with you, in a number of positions but this first time, let me see you."
    Without further comment he turned over onto his back, I pulled his legs high around my waist and pressed into him gently. His eyes flew shut and